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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29779350">She-Wolves &amp; Whorses</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/niteynyx/pseuds/niteynyx'>niteynyx</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Nitey's Commissions [41]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Cunnilingus, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Facials, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, Horses, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Hand Jobs, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:06:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,935</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29779350</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/niteynyx/pseuds/niteynyx</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For the first time in a long time, Geralt of Rivia is on the road with the three most important women in his life. None of them are bickering, and they aren’t even tasked with saving the world. Naturally, Yennefer, Ciri and Triss get up to a lot of shenanigans just under his nose. And it isn’t even really cucking Geralt if the only other cock involved is Roach’s, right? Anonymous commission.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Nitey's Commissions [41]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1896736</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. She-Wolves</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Want to get updates, support my work or contact me? You can join my <a href="https://discord.gg/2kpsyxb">Discord server</a>, as well as occasionally get previews and early access to new stories. You can also follow my <a href="https://twitter.com/niteynyx">Twitter here</a>. Contact information below.</p><p>Email: niteynyx@gmail.com<br/>Discord: nitenyx#8654</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Everyone knew that the famous White Wolf of Rivia preferred to work alone. Every song and story about Geralt the Witcher emphasized his stoic nature and how his moniker stemmed from his penchant for working as a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lone wolf</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That was, like many songs and stories but most especially those bandied around any drinking hole by drunks or bards, a complete hock of shit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kept to himself on the road because few people would willingly travel with a Witcher, a mutant, a dangerous freak. It had nothing to do with him being a ‘lone wolf’, a highly romanticized idea that had no basis in reality whatsoever. A lone wolf dies alone, but the wolf that thrives -- and Geralt did </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> if he did not </span>
  <em>
    <span>thrive</span>
  </em>
  <span> in his line of work -- lives in a pack. He didn’t consider himself a lone wolf at all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt never bothered to correct anyone on why he received the moniker. It wasn’t worth the effort to explain he was trained in the traditions of the School of the Wolf. The white part should have been self-explanatory with his head full of long white hair. He was a private man, and a quiet one at that, never wanting to draw too much attention to himself when he already knew how much he would receive just for being what he was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He never bothered to tell anyone about his pack, either. They were split up all across the Continent and were rarely in the one place, but they were there. He was no lone wolf. Not with his fellow wolves Eskel and Lambert traveling the Continent’s various kingdoms and smaller fiefdoms, slaying monsters and taking care of problems for anyone who could cough up a bit of coin for their services. Their mentor, Vesemir, was sorely missed. He had fallen in battle almost a year ago, defending Kaer Morhen… and the littlest wolf. Their adopted cat, Geralt’s lion cub.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then there was Geralt’s company, his usual fellows, his occasionally literal partners in crime. Dandelion the bard, the Continent’s most ridiculous dandy, and his off-again, on-again lover Priscilla, his only equal when it came to picking up a lute and getting into trouble. Regis the vampire, ever the gentleman in his disguise as a barber-surgeon. Zoltan Chivay, a dwarven veteran of the Second Nilfgaard war. And that was only to name a few of the living. Geralt would never forget the likes of Milva and Cahir and Angoulême, who all fell as Vesemir did, defending the lion cub.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A lot of people had died defending Ciri. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The would-be queen of Cintra and would-be Empress of Nilfgaard was practically Geralt’s daughter, their destinies forever intertwined. She was one of the three great loves of his life, though not in any romantic sense. Those feelings were reserved for Triss Merigold and Yennefer of Vengerberg. His </span>
  <em>
    <span>true</span>
  </em>
  <span> love would always be the dark-haired sorceress who smelled of lilac and gooseberries, their relationship strong as steel in spite of how turbulent it might appear from the outside, and how vicious their fights could be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then there was the redhead, who had misled Geralt when he returned to the Continent without memories. Triss knew about his relationship with Yennefer, but had been lusting after him long enough that she decided to take her opportunity while she had it, seducing him. A very real connection had sparked between them in that time, though it fell to shambles when Yennefer came back into Geralt’s life and the rest of his memories returned to him. Things had been tense between the two sorceresses after that, but Yennefer eventually forgave her. After all, she and Geralt were by no means an exclusive item. They were welcome to fuck whomever they liked, whenever they liked. She wasn’t his one true love, but a love all the same. They were the most important members of his pack.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ciri. Yennefer. Triss. Geralt couldn’t remember a time the three of them were in the same room. Without something going horribly wrong, anyway. Yet circumstances brought the three of them together two weeks ago, and they had been travelling together ever since. While Geralt wasn’t worried about Ciri misbehaving around Yennefer or Triss, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> concerned that the two sorceresses might get into a bitchy snit in spite of Triss’ apology. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While Triss was far more human than Yenn, the witch from Vengerberg could be like a fickle human tempest, striking unexpectedly and causing great damage, or none at all. Whenever she struck, nobody would know the extent of the devastation -- if there was any -- until it was safe to poke their head out and check.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt shifted atop Roach and glanced sidelong at Yennefer, then over his shoulder at Triss and Ciri. The road they were riding on was narrow and in a dubious state of repair, requiring them to ride their horses two by two. Things had been suspiciously affable between the redhead and the brunette. Even when and where Geralt would expect Yennefer to get casually venomous -- in private, when it was just the two of them -- she had nothing but nice things to say about Triss.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Either there was something going on that Geralt wasn’t aware of, or Yennefer was bottling everything up in anticipation of one gigantic explosion. The White Wolf pursed his lips for a moment, studying the woman who was once his ward and Triss. The two were speaking softly to each other, smiles on their faces. Nothing struck him as unusual about that. Ciri had found two mother figures after the fall of Cintra, the two sorcesses with them right now. Triss came first, and in a few ways was far more influential in Ciri’s growth than Yennefer was, or ever could be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two were riding closer together than they needed to. Close enough that their knees touched, and close enough that if something were to startle their horses things would turn ugly, and fast. As Geralt watched them, Ciri’s eyes flashed with humour at something Triss said and her generous lips curved from a smile to a smirk. Whatever comment the would-be Queen and Empress shot back made Triss Merigold throw her head back and give a full, throaty laugh. It only ended when Ciri reached over and physically brought Triss back down to earth, reaching over and squeezing the sorceresses’ thigh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As her pealing laughter died away, Triss gave Ciri a secretive smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt shook his head and turned away. Though he was tempted to ask what was so funny, he decided to leave them to their mirth and instead turn his focus forward again. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> have honed in his hearing and listened close to them, but it was a conversation between them and he hated to invade Ciri’s privacy. It never really went well for him in the past, like that time he found Ciri in bed with a duke’s daughter </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> found out she had a tattoo at the same time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dwelling on that memory -- Ciri, bisexual, not the rose she had inked on her inner thigh -- should have made a few things click into place for Geralt, but Yennefer saw the gears beginning to turn in his head and took quick action. With a gentle push of her knees and a tug at her reins, she urged her horse closer to Geralt’s until the pair of them were as close as Ciri and Triss, if not closer. Letting her voice drop to a husky whisper and leaning her head towards him, she took one hand off her reins and reached for his thigh, squeezing it not unlike Ciri just did. “So, pray tell, Geralt… is it true that a Witcher carries three swords?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hn?” Geralt grunted, distracted from putting two and two together. His wolfish eyes flicked to Yennefer’s face, then down to her hand as it moved up his thigh, its squeeze becoming a far lighter touch as she cupped his crotch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Three swords.” Yennefer didn’t smile, only perking her brows as she began to unbutton them boldly without a trace of hesitation, as dexterous with her fingers as she was skilled with her magic. “Silver for monsters, steel for man, and… hard cock for woman,” she concluded as she slid his cock out, careless that Ciri and Triss were only a dozen feet behind them on the road. He wasn’t hard, but that was quickly changing between his exposure and her soft touch, as well as her softer skin. “Well?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The White Wolf hesitated, starting to glance over his shoulder at the pair behind them once again. Yennefer quickly gave his hardening cock a stroke and smirked faintly at how it made him grunt. “It’s not like you to be so nervous, Geralt,” the sorceresses from Vengerberg said quietly, letting her voice just drip with promise. “If I didn’t know any better, I might begin to think that you’ve gone and become a prude on me.” She knew he was anything but; Geralt was as horny a bastard as she was a promiscuous slut. They had fucked in numerous risky situations before, but never around Ciri. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Geralt finally grunted back. “I suppose we do.” Yennefer settled in to work, diligent and silent. She let her mind wander, only focusing on Geralt’s reactions so she could react appropriately to each and every one of them. They had been together long enough that she could read him like a book, one that she never got bored of. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had never done anything risky around Ciri. Fucking in a risky situation around Triss, though? That was another story. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before the redhead had worked up the courage to apologize for what she did, Yennefer had gone out of her way to impress upon the redhead that Geralt was </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> territory, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>territory alone. On one particularly memorable occasion, the one that she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>certain</span>
  </em>
  <span> sparked Triss’ apology, she had slid under the table while Geralt was having a conversation with Triss and had started sucking his cock. He did nothing to stop her, even when she began to go out of her way to make it loud and messy, making no effort to muffle the sloppy noises that came along with a deep throat’s territory. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a while, Yennefer had listened closely to them -- just enough to pick up on the increasing awkwardness in Triss’ throaty voice as she tried to match Geralt in acting like everything was normal. Once she was satisfied with the effect she was having on the other sorceress, she stopped paying attention entirely and just lost herself in the joy of giving Geralt the best head of his long life. That didn’t mean making him cum </span>
  <em>
    <span>fast</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it meant making him cum </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whenever she felt him getting close, she would pop off him and deprive him of that sweet release. She focused on her own needs instead of his while she waited for him to teeter back from the brink of orgasm, fingers playing fast and wet at her damp pussy, making no effort to hide her moans either. At one point during such a lull, she heard Triss clear her throat and begin to make an excuse to leave. In an instant, Yennefer conjured magical manacles around her Lodge sister’s ankles. She knew they worked without having to look at Triss’ legs; the redheaded sorceress was somehow allergic to magic, and would often sneeze when it affected her. Geralt would know something was going on, too, with his Witcher’s medallion -- though he wouldn’t know exactly what, only that it had something to do with the sorcesses. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yennefer had simply smirked at the sound of her cute, surprised ‘achoo’ and gone back to work on Geralt’s cock, ignoring their conversation again. She only edged him one more time after that before finally deciding her man had been tortured enough. Dipping down, Yennefer sucked on his balls while she jerked him off, her favourite move for taking him down a peg and making him bust a nut. She was tempted to take it on her mouth to relish the ever sweet taste of the Witcher’s cum, or to take it on her face so she could just slide up and show Triss his expansive mess like it was a normal thing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One option was delicious. The other was humiliating for Triss. Sparked with inspiration in the moment, she decided to combine the two ideas into the epitome of a power move. She knew right away when Geralt was about to cum, between how his knee bumped up and hit the table, how he grunted and how he twitched in her mouth and in her fingers. Quickly, the sorcesses twisted her magic once more and formed an invisible chute through the air, one end a funnel and the other a flute. Though the fluted end didn’t quite touch Triss, it came close enough that it made her sneeze again. This time, she voiced her confusion. “What are you--” she began, the first and only time someone acknowledged what Yennefer was doing during that conversation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then Geralt hit his peak and blasted his load forward into the practical funnel. The chute was by no means a straight one, winding and twisting, her magic speeding and ushering Geralt’s cum through it faster and faster in spite of its thickness and volume. Triss had only a second to react before the cum reached the end of the flute, the first rope splattering over her face with a startled squeak. Yennefer smiled her satisfaction around Geralt’s nut, releasing it from the wet warmth of her mouth to start sucking on the other one, stroking all the while. With his mutant physiology, Geralt’s cum was infertile, but he made </span>
  <em>
    <span>so damn much</span>
  </em>
  <span> of it. Gripping the table, the White Wolf kept shooting for almost fifteen whole seconds, unable to stop even if he wanted to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Triss was utterly silent after that one squeak, as was Geralt, both effectively shocked into silence. When Yennefer was sure that Geralt was finished, she popped her lips off his balls and took care to tuck everything away where she found it, leaving her own pussy stoked and needy. Afterwards, she crawled out from under the table and repressed her malicious glee at the sight of Triss’ cum-splattered face, burning red with humiliation and wide-eyed with shock, the victim of a one-man surprise bukkake. “Oh, Triss,” Yennefer said with a fractional widening of her eyes. “You’ve got a little something on your face. Here,” she said as she sat down beside the redhead, “let me help you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The redheaded sorceress didn’t dare say a word while Yennefer took a handkerchief from her belt pouch and began to clean Triss’ face off, completely mortified. When she was done, Yennefer folded the sullied handkerchief neatly and leaned forward, tucking into the deep swell of cleavage revealed by her outfit. “So,” Yennefer then said, turning towards Geralt, shocked and embarrassed, but honestly unsurprised by Yennefer’s pettiness. “What were we talking about?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Triss tried to act normal, even with the intoxicating smell of Geralt’s cum wafting up from her breasts; though Yennefer had cleaned her face up, it wasn’t the same as washing it. There was still a She didn’t release the spell locking Triss’ ankles in place for another ten minutes, forcing them to carry on the conversation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a fond memory for Yennefer, one she often jilled herself to when she didn’t have a cock handy. Even now in the present, as she jerked off Geralt on horseback, it made her cunt grow damp and made her nipples stiff as stone. She didn’t have time to do anything fancy, but she knew what she would be doing tonight to get off. The raven-haired sorceress didn’t edge him like she edged him in her memory. This wasn’t about his pleasure or her pleasure or humiliating Triss, after all -- it was about something more important than that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Making Geralt cum and getting to taste his cum would just be a bonus, a cherry on top. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No, this was about protecting Ciri (and Triss, by extension) from Geralt’s fatherly instincts. The would-be female Witcher and the redheaded sorceress had sparked a relationship weeks ago, one they hadn’t quite managed to define yet -- yet one that was increasingly hot and heavy. Neither of them wanted Geralt to find out about it, worried that he might take it the wrong way or react in a way that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>way</span>
  </em>
  <span> over the top. Reasonably so, after that one time Geralt caught Ciri in bed with a duke’s daughter </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> found out about Ciri’s tattoo at the same time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He always downplayed the incident, but it got </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It might have been understandable if Ciri was a kid when it happened, but considering it was only a year and a half ago, well into Ciri’s twenties? Well. Bad really was an understatement, as was ‘invasive’ and ‘unnecessary’. And that was with a duke’s daughter, one that Geralt didn’t even like. How bad could it possibly get if Geralt caught one of his closest friends -- one of his most regular fucks -- getting frisky with Ciri? None of them wanted to find out. And besides, apologies or not, Triss hadn’t shown any interest in Geralt since her affair with Ciri began. So even without protecting her would-be daughter from Geralt’s excessive ‘parenting’, Yennefer had a vested interest in keeping their secret safe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pushed all of that from her mind, though, sensing that Geralt was all but ready to burst. If they weren’t in a hurry to reach the next village before nightfall, she would have stopped and led him off into the woods so she could enjoy his orgasm properly, with him shooting his load right into her tight little pussy. Maybe if she were more acrobatic and </span>
  <em>
    <span>far</span>
  </em>
  <span> more flexible she would have somehow finessed leaning over and sucking his cock, getting his load straight from the proverbial tap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yennefer was a more realistic woman than that, one with magic. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>awfully</span>
  </em>
  <span> tempting to repeat her humiliating ‘trick’ on Triss, or even to just use the spell to send it straight into her own mouth, but she decided against it. She knew Geralt would appreciate something else a little more than that, and doing it would ease the sting of her rejecting his eventual advances in the tavern that night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She met and held her lover’s eye as he ejaculated, only employing the slightest bit of magic to keep it from arcing upward and splattering on Geralt’s own face, forming a half-dome right just a few inches over his cock. His prodigious mess hit the dome and went right back down as she continued to jerk him off, only covering his own cock and her busy hand. Geralt bit back on his cheek, clearly holding in his grunts and groans for Ciri’s sake. Not that Yennefer cared one way or another. She was an adult now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When it was done, Yennefer drew her back back, keeping her violet eyes on Geralt’s wolfish ones as she began to lick it clean. Her eyes lidded over as she lapped up every drop on her pristine skin, loving the taste of it on her tongue. The soft hum of satisfaction she let out was a genuine one, not something she did for Geralt’s sake. She sucked his spill off each of her fingers individually and swallowed it down, then gave him a saucy smile and turned back towards the road.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry about the sword polish,” Geralt muttered aside at Yennefer as he began to clean off his cock and put everything away again. She ignored his terrible dad joke. It was, after all, the second best cum she had ever tasted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>***-***-***-***-***-***-***-***-***-***-***-***-***-***-***-***-***-***-***-***-***-***-***-***</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After finally arriving in the tavern, the four stabled their horses and headed inside to get their rooms sorted out, a pair to each couple. Triss sharing a room with Ciri just made sense. Why waste the money on three rooms, after all? Once everyone had their bags tucked away, they reconvened at a table in the common room to share a meal and whittle away a few hours with drinks. Yennefer sipped at a glass of the tavern’s best (yet sadly laughably poor) wine, while Triss, Ciri and Geralt went shot for shot of whiskey over the course of an hour, sharing stories and conversing like only old friends (and truly close family) can do. The tw</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a warm moment, almost wholesome. At least, that was Geralt and Yennefer’s perception of what was going on. Things were a bit different on the other side of the table, where Ciri and Triss sat. Nothing happened for the first thirty minutes or so, but then the inevitable happened. While Geralt barely seemed affected by all the liquor he had tossed back, Ciri and Triss were growing increasingly tipsy. Triss, the ever-fiery redhead, grew bored and reached over to Ciri’s lap, squeezing her thigh and glancing sidelong at her secret lover. Though the Lioness returned the glance, she didn’t give much of a reaction to the squeeze… other than to spread her thighs, anyway. Triss bit down gently on her bottom lip to suppress the grin that threatened to overtake her features. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a clear invitation, and not one Triss was about to lift her nose at while Geralt was focusing on Yennefer. She had Ciri’s belt unlatched and pulled loose with astonishing speed for her level of intoxication. Her slim digits quickly worked their way under the would-be Empress’ tight leather pants, sliding down and through the small thatch of white hair that guarded Ciri’s womanhood. Finding her lover to already be damp and ready, Triss carefully slipped two fingers into Ciri’s hungry cunt and pressed the heel of her hand right up against Ciri’s clit. No one else at the table noticed the sharp little breath that Ciri sucked in, or the squeak of surprise she barely managed to muffle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The redheaded sorceress only moved her fingers slightly, hooking them upward and just </span>
  <em>
    <span>barely</span>
  </em>
  <span> pressing against the one place she knew that would drive Ciri wild. The Lioness was ready for that, her jaw tensing as she fought to keep quiet. Unable to stop her smirk, Triss began to work her wrist, pressing the blunt heel of her hand into Ciri’s clit while she pressed rhymatically against her lover’s g-spot, slowly working her towards an embarrassingly fast orgasm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One of Ciri’s hands shot down under the table, grabbing at Triss’ wrist desperately. And though she squeezed for her lover to stop, she made no effort to pull Triss’ hand away from her cunt. A serving wench came by and tore Geralt’s attention away from Yennefer so he could grab his next shot, with Triss following suit. Ciri, distracted, was a second behind. “Cheers,” Geralt said easily, relaxed and letting a little warmth shine through his normally stony exterior, surrounded by the most important member of his pack, his she-wolves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cheers,” Triss echoed, with Ciri breathily following suit after another pause. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The White Wolf and Merigold the Fearless downed their shots, and this time the Lioness of Cintra made an effort to down hers at the same time. Unfortunately for her, the more Triss drank, the more of a bitch she tended to become. She began rubbing Ciri’s g-spot again the moment her arm came up, making the younger woman gasp sharply and jerk her arm unsteadily. None of her whiskey passed her lips. It all splashed over her white shirt and made her gasp again. And though the shirt was too thick for the small amount of liquor to cause a critical wardrobe malfunction, it was enough to signal an end of Ciri’s drinking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yennefer narrowed her eyes, beginning to suspect something was up. Geralt only blinked, sure that Ciri wouldn’t get so uncoordinated after only a half-hour of drinking. The Lioness herself felt her cheeks begin to color and directed a glare at the one responsible for the incident, not that anyone else at the table knew what was going on. And Triss, for her part, did a fantastic job of faking her concern, though Ciri could see the mirth and lust gleaming in her eyes. “Oh, honey. I think we’ve got to cut you off.” She slipped her fingers out of Ciri’s cunt and slipped an arm around her lover, beginning to draw Ciri up to her feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neither woman noticed that her belt was still loose, or that her pants were askew, but Yennefer did, confirming her suspicions. She rolled her eyes and proceeded to act quickly, going for Geralt’s cock before he had a chance to do simple addition yet again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-- fine,” Ciri muttered, steadying herself with an arm around Triss and dropping the shot glass carelessly, not giving it a second glance as it fell on its side and rolled away from her. “Good night,” she mumbled at Yennefer and Geralt, beet red. Rather than hold Triss’ side, she slid her hand down and grabbed hard at her ass, trying to return tit for tat but finding she only made Triss grin delightedly. They headed off for the stairs, barely hearing Yennefer’s goodbye -- or Geralt’s grunt as Yennefer began to give him his third handjob of the day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took the couple a minute to get up the stairs, an actual minute; Triss made it all the more difficult for Ciri when she dipped her hand back into the Lioness’ tight leather pants. “Bitch,” the normally eloquent young woman hissed, though it turned into a whimper the second Triss had fingers on her clit, only making the redhead laugh. Luckily for them both, their room was the nearest door. On the flip side, neither one of them could keep their hands to themselves long enough to get their keys out or the door unlocked. Finally getting impatient, Triss pushed Ciri up against the door, their breasts pressing together as she continued her assault on the younger woman’s clit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t see you complaining about it,” Triss purred. When her fingers finally made Ciri tip her head back and push it against the door, Triss saw an opening to attack the delicate column of the younger woman’s neck, deciding to do something she had been wanting to try for a while. Something she knew she really shouldn’t do, with how secret they were keeping everything. The liquid courage gave her the strength to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck it</span>
  </em>
  <span> and just go for it, or maybe it just made her stop caring about her inhibitions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Either way, she gave up on getting the key entirely and pressed her lips to Ciri’s neck, kissing it gently before nipping her teeth into it, alternating light bites with hard sucks. Ciri hissed her discomfort, but once again she didn’t try to push Triss off of her; she had never been opposed to a little pain heightening her pleasure, and Triss was still giving her a </span>
  <em>
    <span>world</span>
  </em>
  <span> of pleasure with the fingers attacking her clit. She didn’t even realize what Triss was really doing -- deliberately leaving a bruise on her neck that would show cleanly on her pale skin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While she endured the redhead’s assault, Ciri’s other hand began blindly pushing and pounding on the door, her nails scraping paint off the wood. It was sheer coincidence that her fingers eventually found the doorknob, and dumb luck that they had forgotten to even lock the door in the first place -- it </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> wasn’t because they were in the same situation almost two hours ago, making out and playing grab ass when they should have been hurrying up to get downstairs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door swung open, taking them both by surprise. They just barely managed to keep from falling to the floor altogether thanks to CIri’s exceptional balance, only fitting for a woman who wore an amulet from the Witcher School of the Cat. Triss peeled herself off Ciri’s mouth and briefly examined her handiwork, her lips curling back in a glee-filled grin that she wasn’t about to explain to her lover. From there, things quickly and steadily escalated with each passing moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It only took the lovers a minute to get naked, and then they were on the bed, Triss back on top of Ciri, using her knee to wedge the younger woman’s legs wide. Her long red hair fell in tousled waves, tickling against Ciri’s skin while she began to kiss and lick at her lover’s taut little nipples. She used one of her arms to both bear her weight and pin Ciri down into place, while her other hand was back at work between Ciri’s thighs. The younger woman wasn’t much of a screamer when it came to cumming, but she was one hell of a wriggler and pretty much needed someone to hold her down when she was on bottom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Ciri gasped, tensing up right as her orgasm began to come up behind her. When it hit, it hit hard -- all the delays and stops and starts Triss put her through damming everything up, never quite giving the Lioness the sweet release she longed for until that very moment. “Triss!” she cried out, wild quivers running through her legs, her hips bucking up against the redhead’s fingers. “Triss!” It wasn’t just a cry of pleasure, but one of increasing desperation as the redhead overwhelmed her, continuing to rub her clit as Ciri’s movements built to a crescendo, the white-haired woman witcher thrashing wildly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Triss, bitch that she was, just grinned around her mouth full of Ciri’s tit and set to work leaving another hickey there. She ignored the desperation in Ciri’s voice in favor of heeding her cries. Why would she want </span>
  <em>
    <span>less</span>
  </em>
  <span> pleasure, after all? Even as the Lioness’ toes curled hard, the little bones threatening to lock into place, she kept up her assault. Just as her cries and moans began to taper off, the redheaded sorceress managed to push her over that sweet edge of release again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Though she wasn’t much of a screamer most of the time, Ciri’s second orgasm was loud enough to be heard all over the tavern. The shots had served to loosen her up and get her cunt overflowing in its wetness. One of her hands grabbed at Triss’ shoulders, sliding over the smooth plane of her back and raking savagely at it with her short nails. The other grabbed at the sheets beneath her, clutching them like a lifeline.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And the third -- the fourth -- Triss wouldn’t let up, knowing </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> what she was doing. If Ciri could have focused at all, if she could have felt something other than Triss’ mouth worshipping her breasts and her fingers playing at her sweet little white-haired pussy, she would have felt her medallion vibrate. She would have known that Triss was supplementing her sexual skill with magic and that </span>
  <em>
    <span>none of this</span>
  </em>
  <span> was particularly fair to her. More than that, Triss was amplifying her lust. But as it was…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soon, the Lioness was reduced to a whimpering little mess on the bed, panting and sweaty and breathless, but Merigold the Fearless wasn’t done with her lover’s daughter. Not by a longshot. Once she was satisfied with the love bite she left on Ciri’s breast, she finally stopped torturing the poor girl’s clit and began to kiss and lick her way down Ciri’s body one inch at a time, raising goosebumps in her wake. Ciri groaned out her semi-coherent appreciation, shivering, her hand on Triss’ back sliding into the redhead’s hair and curling into it as she went lower and lower. “Oh,” she whimpered out. “That’s-- oh. Oh, fuck.” Soon, Triss’ sinfully long and equally delightful tongue was playing at her clit, putting Ciri right back on track for losing her mind. Every muscle in her belly tightened, her thighs splaying wide of their own accord to make Triss’ access easier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And she probably would have lost her mind there too, if Triss hadn’t gotten a little more adventurous than Ciri was ready for. Though Ciri was feeling limp and languid other than her tensing stomach, she tensed up altogether when she felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> push against her rosebud -- and that wasn’t a cute way to refer to the tattoo she had on her thigh. “Wait, wait,” she gasped, but Triss was already working two of her slender digits into Ciri’s virgin asshole. She hissed out in discomfort, adrenaline quickly pumping into her veins. That was </span>
  <em>
    <span>very much</span>
  </em>
  <span> the wrong hole, and one she associated with nothing good. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last time someone-- no. She didn’t think about that. “Stop it, Triss,” Ciri growled. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>tried</span>
  </em>
  <span> to growl, but with the chill feeling running through her body, she was aware of how she really moaned the words out, wanton and wanting, her body at odds with her mind. If Triss heard and understood the words, she didn’t show it, continuing to worship Ciri’s clit and work her fingers a bit deeper into her lover’s ass. “I said-- stop it,” she tried again, managing to snarl and finding it within herself to push Triss’ head away from the juncture of her thighs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The show of force got through to the redheaded sorceress, who blinked her cornflower blue eyes at Ciri, darkened with lust and the veil of her eyelashes. “What’s wrong?” she pressed, swiping her tongue over her lips and cleaning Ciri’s wetness from them. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>great</span>
  </em>
  <span> that she had lifted her head and was now listening to Ciri, that she stopped teasing Ciri’s clit with her tongue and left the needy little pink button wet and alone in the proverbial wind. The Lioness could still feel her warm breath tickling the damp nub, making her shiver all over again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But that wasn’t what Ciri wanted at all. She wanted those fingers out of her ass, and they were still there. Why, along with the when and the how and the where that would have to go into any explanation of </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span>? That wasn’t something Ciri was about to get into. The would-be  sat herself up and pulled herself away from Triss, swallowing roughly. She didn’t want to fight the redheaded sorceress about it if she pressed. Really, she didn’t even want to have this conversation. “I’m-- I need to get some fresh air,” she claimed, scooting back and freeing her ass from the tyranny of Merigold’s fingers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Triss blinked, shifting up to sit on her knees, her weight propped on her palms and her legs splayed out to either side of her body. This wasn’t like Ciri at all, and she felt a pang of worry, trying to push down her horniness to address the situation. “What’s wrong, honey?” she murmured, but the white-haired younger woman was already wobbling to her feet and clumsily tugging on a shirt and breeches. “Ciri?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look, I just… I just need a minute. Some fresh air. I’ll be back in a moment, I promise.” Ciri mumbled, not even bothering to pull on her boots before heading out the door and leaving the redhead to herself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Triss stared at the door, her concern growing bleak. She was wound up so </span>
  <em>
    <span>damn</span>
  </em>
  <span> tight from all of that, too. The sorceress’ plan had been to mount her lover’s face after she came on Triss’ tongue and force her to return the favor. Whether or not Ciri came back in a minute, Triss wasn’t going to sit around waiting for her. After a few seconds, she got up and opened her bag, fishing out the pair’s favourite dildo, the one she often fucked Ciri’s pussy with. The one she would never, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> tell Ciri was a life-sized replica of Geralt’s cock. She’d just have to get herself off with it before tracking down the little Lioness and figuring out what got up her ass.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No, Triss was not a very self-aware drunk.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ciri loved horses. She considered herself a real equestrian and viewed her horse Kelpie as her best friend, a label she could never really apply to her guardian and father figure Geralt. Or to either of her ‘mothers’, Yennefer and Triss, as much as she loved them… and as physically as she loved Triss. It was only natural that her late night ‘fresh air’ took her down to the stables. Nothing calmed her quite like the feeling of a horse’s fur, or their strong, muscular backs between her thighs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was too late to take Selkie for a ride, though, and as she peeked in on the stall she saw her mare was fast asleep. Ciri smiled to herself and shook her head, deciding against waking her dearest companion. She continued along, checking in on Triss’ Blizzard and Yennefer’s unnamed stallion. Both were in similar states, but wedged between them was Geralt’s stallion Roach, restless and up on his hooves. Smiling to herself, she stepped into the stall. The horse snorted softly at the sight of the familiar woman, and as Ciri reached out to stroke his cheek, he leaned his head into her soft touch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, guy,” Ciri murmured warmly, stepping closer to Roach and running her hand along his long face, along the length of his powerful neck. “Can’t sleep, hm? Geralt really should take you out for a long run in the morning,” she whispered, taking another step closer, ducking her head to nuzzle his while she rubbed his neck. The powerful stallion -- he must have been the tenth or twelvth Roach that Geralt had owned -- snorted softly again, just responding to the sound of Ciri’s voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was fine by her. She smiled tenderly at the smell of him, beginning to relax the way she </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> have been relaxing under Triss just minutes ago, her body loose and limber. Still intoxicated, somehow still horny, but relaxed. “You know, Roach,” Ciri continued to whisper after a moment, knowing she could tell him anything… because he was a horse and couldn’t understand or repeat a word of it, but nevertheless. “We’ve got such a fucked up little family. I’ve been sleeping with the woman who taught me what </span>
  <em>
    <span>periods</span>
  </em>
  <span> are, and she doesn’t look a day older than me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiled crookedly, not exactly ashamed of it. The sex was far too good for that. “That’s just part of her being a sorceress, I guess. She’s so much younger than Geralt and Yennefer, though. I’ve never asked how old she is, but she can’t be more than fifteen or twenty years older than me.” Ciri ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, then pulled her head away from Roach’s. “She’s always been like a mother to me, but she’s more like a sister.” Reaching up and behind her head, Ciri gathered the long fall of her white hair and began to pull it into her usual messy bun with a bit of cord wrapped around her wrist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That done, the white-haired woman stepped over to fetch a horse brush and returned to Roach’s side. Ciri didn’t mind the feeling of hay beneath her feet at all, not by a long shot. Nestling up close to the horse’s side, her breasts and stiff nipples pressing against him through her shirt, she slipped her arm over him and began to run the brush along his other side. “And I guess… that makes Yennefer more my real mother,” Ciri murmured, deciding to confide something in Roach she had never spoken out loud before. “But you know, she’s-- really sexy. I’d love to see what she looks like when she loses control.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ciri ran her tongue over her full lips, aware that she was snaking her free hand under her breeches but not caring to stop herself. “I want to hold her down and watch her lose her mind while Geralt or, well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> is just… ravaging her cunt.” Her eyelids beginning to lower, she began to absently play with her clit while continuing to groom Roach. “Not me. No, I want to get fucked right before or right after her. And… I’d want to still feel it sloshing around in me the whole time,” she whispered. Though she was an assertive woman and one of action, she hated being on top.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All but forgetting her promise to ‘be back in a moment’, Ciri stopped talking and turned her mind towards her fantasy, slowly pleasuring herself as she worked towards Roach’s flank. He snorted softly as she went, then grunted. Sensing something was off, the would-be reluctantly drew her hand away from her damp pussy and took a step back, lowering the brush. “What’s wrong, Roach?” That step back gave her all the perspective she needed on the problem, though. Ciri’s green eyes flared wide open. “Oh, fuck.” In spite of herself, she laughed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe Roach was smarter than she gave him credit for. Maybe he understood more of the common tongue than she thought. Or… maybe he just smelled her arousal and the proof of the illicit deeds she had been up to with Triss, and his body was just responding naturally. Whichever one was the case, Roach’s enormous horse cock had emerged from its sheath and was now primed, ready, only in need of a mare to breed. “Um… wow.” Ciri’s laughter died away, and she slowly peeled the brush’s strap off her hand. “Sorry, big guy. I didn’t-- wow.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took someone like Triss to really make Ciri blush. Most of the men the would-be empress had fucked didn’t make her bat an eye with their attempts at filth. Growing up around Eskel and Lambert and Vesemir and Geralt himself, she had grown accustomed to </span>
  <em>
    <span>a lot</span>
  </em>
  <span> of things. They were terrible judges of when Ciri was out of earshot, and often left their less than wholesome books (</span>
  <em>
    <span>especially </span>
  </em>
  <span>their ‘picture’ books) laying around for the curious girl to flip through. Yet somehow, the implicit knowledge that she had gotten Roach’s cock hard made her blush like a virgin. It made her heart pound so hard that she could feel it hammering away in her neck and in her chest, and could hear it thundering in her ears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I should probably-- go,” Ciri whispered, her eyelashes fanning over her bright green eyes. She couldn’t help where her imagination went, or how her mouth began to water as she tried to guess what Roach’s cock would taste like, or how it would feel if she nuzzled her cheek against it. “... Fuck,” she giggled lowly to herself, feeling half-mad, like some forest maenad about to lose herself. She had Triss to thank for that, Triss and the stupid little spell she snuck into their bedroom play without warning Ciri, though Ciri would never learn the truth. “I’m-- I’m so fucked up,” she laughed again. Ciri was sleeping with one of Geralt’s paramours behind his back, and now she was seriously fantasizing about his horse’s cock? Fucked up was an understatement, but even knowing that didn’t stop Ciri from following her impulses to their natural conclusion. She peeled her shirt up and over her head, letting her full breasts spill into view. More for her sake than Roach’s, of course. The horse didn’t seem to care one way or another about human mammaries. That was a small shame, as Ciri was proud of her twin girls, but otherwise understandable. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The breeches took her a moment longer and were an exercise in patience, far too tight to just rip off the way she wanted to. Her impatience didn’t make removing them any easier, but she managed to shimmy out of them after a bit of work, leaving the long-legged Lioness nude once more. She wet her lips, running her slender hands over the curves of her hips and along her waist, brushing down through the patch of white hair that guarded her cunt, teasing herself with her own touch. This was her last chance to back out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, the Lady of Time and Space, was many things. A coward was not one of them. Spreading her lips in a grin, her cheeks burning crimson, Ciri padded closer to Roach, running her hand over his side one more time. “Yeah,” she whispered as he gave another snort and tossed his head. “I know, stud. I know.” Gracefully, she lowered herself into a squat that put her just under the stallion, her thighs splayed wide open. One of her fingers began to play at her cunt, careful not to tease her clit </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>much, the little pleasure nub still sensitive from all of Triss’ abuse. For a moment, she just stared at Roach’s enormous equine cock, trying to figure out how she would tackle the challenge he presented.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had sucked her fair share of cocks, but Roach had to be three or four times the size of the longest human cock she ever had. Hell, he had to be twice as thick, too. Ciri bit down on her bottom lip and considered his majestic length a moment longer, then swallowed. One of Vesemir’s favourite lessons came back to her; all the theory in the world meant as much as a chicken’s teat if you didn’t have practical experience. Ciri, a teenaged smartass at the time, pointed out chickens didn’t have tits and smirked at Vesmir, confident she had gotten the better of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No shit,” he snorted at her. “That’s the point, girl.” Roach’s snort drew her back from memory lane.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No matter how much time she spent thinking about the best way to pleasure his cock, it wouldn’t mean shit until she had some hands-on experience with it. Deciding to wing it, she eased up on her toes and wet her lips one more time before giving an experimental lick along the underside of Roach’s meaty member. It tasted -- she couldn’t describe the taste. It wasn’t good and it wasn’t bad, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> she wanted more of it. Everything that followed that one little kitten lick became far more eager. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She began to attack him with her tongue, alternating kisses and lick. Needing to balance herself on something, she reached up and took a gentle hold of his cock further up the pole, beginning to stroke and pump him. Ciri’s mouth moved almost with a life of its own, moving towards her favourite part of any man’s body. She took Roach’s grunting as appreciation; if he disagreed with anything the would-be empress was doing to his cock, he didn’t go out of his way to show it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Ciri giggled breathlessly as her lips reached his sack, far too big for her to fit in her mouth… but that was fine. She could still get part of her lips around them, could still run her tongue over their wrinkles -- could still do everything </span>
  <em>
    <span>but</span>
  </em>
  <span> fit them in her mouth and suck on them. She found a comfortable rhythm for her fingers and settled in to worship the horse’s ballsack, sure that every mare before her had ignored them because, well, the alternative was a disturbing image. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was so wrong, but like getting dominated by Triss or like fantasizing over Yennefer, it just felt so right. Ciri closed her eyes, letting her fingers move up from her cunt to give her clit the attention it really wanted once again. This had to be the best cock she ever had. It was so good that she was obsessed with it. It became her world, her obsession, and it dimmed her normally stellar awareness of her surroundings, even more than the alcohol pumping through her veins. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She didn’t hear the footsteps. She didn’t hear the soft gasp of shock. She didn’t notice the prolonged pause by her voyeur, or notice them open the stall’s gate and step inside. The only thing that Ciri had on her mind was dealing with the problem she made for Roach; she didn’t consider for a moment what she would do after he cummed, only living in the moment. The other woman in the stall removed the clothes she had hastily pulled on after cumming on her dildo, biting down on her bottom lip.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The things that went through Triss’ mind about her relationship with Ciri weren’t all that different from the Lioness’ thoughts. It was wrong, and they probably shouldn’t be doing it behind Geralt’s back, but it was far too good to even think about stopping. Sort of like how Ciri looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>far</span>
  </em>
  <span> too happy pleasuring Roach’s cock for her to interrupt them. The stables were the first place she thought to look for Ciri after she dealt with her horny pussy. Her girlfriend, on her knees under her father figure’s horse? That was the last thing she expected to find down there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whatever questions she had about why Ciri ran out of their room left her. Triss knew that Ciri </span>
  <em>
    <span>probably</span>
  </em>
  <span> wouldn’t be sucking Roach’s cock under ordinary circumstances, and that this was her fault for drunkenly introducing a little magic to their sex life. There was no way that Merigold the Fearless would ever admit that to her girlfriend; the thought of Ciri’s reaction frightened her. But… she could at least lend her a hand. It was her responsibility to make this right, wasn’t it?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s what she told herself, anyway. It wasn’t because she was jealous of how content she looked while she sucked on the horse’s balls and stroked his shaft. Not at all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was, of course, lying to herself. Without saying a word to Ciri, Triss stepped around to the other side of Roach and lowered herself into a squat, her blush only serving to highlight the freckles smattered across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She didn’t put herself across from Ciri, but further up, her face only a few scant inches away from the flared head of his member. For a moment, Triss could only stare at it, needing to work herself up to the moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sucking in a breath, the redheaded sorceress lowered her head and glanced towards Ciri. She couldn’t see her white-haired lover’s face, but couldn’t imagine her expression had changed much, and she was clearly still too absorbed by Roach’s cock to notice Triss’ presence. Triss swallowed, then decided to delay no longer. She lifted her head, resting her long fingers against Roach’s undercarriage as she brought her mouth to the crown of his cock… and what a crown it was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was almost too much for her to fit in her small mouth at once. Triss started slow and small, peppering Roach’s very tip with little kisses and licks until he grunted and shifted his footing, almost letting her know that she was doing the right thing -- that he was welcoming this, not just letting it happen. She grinned to herself before sliding her hands down from his sides, her dexterous digits joining Ciri’s in her quest to get Roach to cum. Her favourite thing about cock was always how warm and stiff they got, and Roach gave her both of those things in spades. “So perfect,” she whispered, before lifting her lips to take part of him into her mouth, basking in his taste and the feeling of him against her sinful tongue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> somehow got Ciri’s attention. She opened her hazy eyes and furrowed her brows, though she wasn’t willing to pop off Roach’s nutsack just yet. If her ears weren’t lying to her, she had just heard Triss whisper. Positioned as she was, she couldn’t see past Roach’s belly, balls or the base of his cock. She angled her eyes down and to the side, seeing Triss’ green-polished toenails further up and on Roach’s other side, her familiar ankles and calves as bare as Ciri’s own. The would-be empress turned horse-cock slut felt a faint sense of confusion, but quickly shook it off. If Triss was here… if Triss was doing the same thing she was doing…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ciri shivered, sliding her fingers away from her cunt. She didn’t have anything to worry about, did she? She began to close her eyes again to lose herself in the joys of worshipping Roach’s scrotum, only for her to feel the fruits inside the wrinkled pouch twitch against her tongue and the horse let out a deep grunt. Triss had picked a perfect time to arrive; Roach was damn near well ready to pop. Feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment, Ciri peeled off the horse’s nutsack and pressed a loving kiss to them, before crawling up to join Triss near the head of his cock. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a moment, Ciri just watched Triss go, her lips parting wantonly as she watched the beauty go at the best cock either of them ever had. Then, slowly, she shifted closer to the sorceress and squeezed in beside her, balanced precariously on her toes once more. Triss opened an eye and glanced aside as Ciri’s skin came in contact with hers, then let her lids fall heavily over them again. “Sorry,” she whispered throatily into the redhead’s ear. “It was spur of the moment.” By Triss’ soft and muffled moan, she assumed things were fine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ciri grinned to herself, then pushed her flushed cheek up against Triss’ own. The redhead let Roach go free of her mouth and the lovers began to share his gloriousness wordlessly, Triss giving all her love to the left half of his cockhead and Ciri focusing on the right, the latter’s fingers joining the former’s in jerking his equine dick. Again, he grunted and shifted, nearer now, close to cumming. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two had a few threesomes since they began their affair and quickly learned how much men loved their double blowjobs, as well as their shared love of a good facial. Both knowing what was about to happen, they leaned back, closed their eyes and opened their mouths, their long pink tongues out and ready to receive Roach’s reward for a job well done. A few more strokes of their fingers and the stud finally whinnied, his big cock twitching once before firing off its first rope of his thick white cum. Neither of them had ever dealt with any animal or monster’s cock before, and neither had given much consideration to the consideration of </span>
  <em>
    <span>scale</span>
  </em>
  <span> -- how they could best pleasure such a big dick, yes, but not how much or how hard its studly owner would cum. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Triss yelped out in surprise as the wet splashes began to hit them, the first hitting her right in the cheek. Though some of the splatter hit Ciri’s face, she was spared the brunt of it. The absurdity of the situation made the cum-high Lioness begin to giggle hysterically, until Roach’s second rope shot out and reversed their roles. She shrieked and flinched away from the coming onslaught, </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying</span>
  </em>
  <span> to shield herself using Triss’ body -- but the redhead already had the same idea and was following through on it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the two jostled and grappled, neither of them succeeded in anything other than being on the receiving end of a one horse bukkak. Roach left them absolutely covered in his thick and sticky spunk. It was over almost as quickly as it began. Ciri had to blink rapidly to clear the cum away from her eyes, while Triss resorted to wiping it away with the back of her hand. Both had swallowed more than their fair share of cum from the small torrent they had unleashed on themselves -- and both of them were in awe of how </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> it tasted, in a way that should have been too good to be true.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The lovers stared at each other in their cum-glazed states, shell shocked in the best way possible, both moaning breathily and unable to believe quite how beautiful the other one looked while practically drowning in fresh horse cum courtesy of Geralt’s mount. Ciri was the first one to make another sound. She was high from cumming before, but now she felt high on Roach’s cum. She started giggling again, reaching her hands up to her head to run her fingers through her hair. The chignon she pulled her hair into earlier was quickly ruined. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Triss didn’t laugh, though. She kept staring at Ciri, her breathing coming in hot and heavy and only getting more so by the moment. There was something perfect about this, this little moment they were having, but it wasn’t a moment she wanted to linger on. What Triss wanted was </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> of Roach’s cum, and she saw plenty of it fresh from the tap right in front of her. Ciri barely stopped giggling when Triss suddenly tackled her to the straw-strewn floor under Roach, only gasping as her back hit the floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was nothing new about Triss being top of her. There was something very different about Triss licking cum off her face like a wild woman, though, something that killed off the giggles that still desperately wanted to pour out of Ciri. “Oh,” the would-be empress gasped as Triss lapped away at her, a shiver running through her spine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For all the effort she put into cleaning Ciri, Triss barely made a dent in the problem… but Ciri soon realized that wasn’t quite her intent. Suddenly, Triss claimed Ciri’s lips in a fierce kiss, far harder than any other kiss the couple had before that moment, all open lips and prowling, predatory tongue. Though she had swallowed some of the cum that she licked off Ciri, far more of it was still in her mouth and on her tongue. Triss made a gift of it, coating CIri’s mouth all over with Roach’s cum before entwining tongues with her, making for a wet and messy exchange that felt like it lasted forever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Triss gasped as she finally pulled away from the kiss, opening her eyes and gazing down at Ciri hazily. “You’re-- perfect. And you’re so full of good ideas,” she mumbled, reminding herself that she could </span>
  <em>
    <span>never claim responsibility for this incident</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Ciri slowly opened her eyes, meeting Triss’ blues with her greens and smiling, cum from their snowballing spread across her teeth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just as Triss was about to dip back down and begin lapping cum off the other side of Ciri’s beautiful face, she heard a single footstep followed by the stall’s gate opening. She froze up and glanced towards the entrance, then felt her jaw go slack. Ciri, well out of her right mind, barely noticed what caught Triss’ attention. Horny and impatient though, she followed her lover’s glance to see what was causing the delay. Her eyes quickly widened and she practically squeaked out a breathless, “Oh, shit,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Standing inside the stall now was none other than Yennefer of Vengerberg, her arms crossed beneath her bust as she stared down at the cum-slapped lovers loitering beneath the still-standing stallion. Nothing about the cool and confident sorceress’ disposition should have suggested she was angry with them, but for how frigid her expression had become. Yennefer had a bad case of resting bitch face, but she tended to react readily to anything with her cutting wit and scorn. Both Ciri and Triss knew how bad things were if she did neither, if her expression and her eyes were just </span>
  <em>
    <span>frozen</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Yennefer wasn’t surprised by what she saw. She was </span>
  <em>
    <span>furious</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If they weren’t both suddenly worried for their lives, one of them might have wondered why that was. “Pray tell, little harlots, what the fuck you think you’re doing,” Yennefer didn’t ask. She demanded an answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They could only stare back.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Want to get updates, support my work or contact me? You can join my <a href="https://discord.gg/2kpsyxb">Discord server</a>, as well as occasionally get previews and early access to new stories. You can also follow my <a href="https://twitter.com/niteynyx">Twitter here</a>. Contact information below.</p><p>Email: niteynyx@gmail.com<br/>Discord: nitenyx#8654</p></blockquote></div></div>
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